Every Second Counts
by Andorian Ice Princess-AIP
Summary: He was losing another friend without much warning. This wasn't how it was supposed to be but now he knew he had to make every second count. Based on eppy 4.05 Better Man'  one-shot


**Title: Every Second Counts**

**Summary:** He was losing another friend without much warning. This wasn't how it was supposed to be but now he knew he had to make every second count. Based on eppy 4.05 Better Man' (Spike centric one-shot)

**Disclaimer: **Sadly I own nothing from the awesomeness that is Flashpoint, that belongs to CTV, CBC and whoever else (soon to be ION)! Lol

**A/N:** Wow okay am still in utter shock and awe this amazing and powerful eppy. It really tugged at personal strings for me so hope this isn't too angsty but it was an angsty topic so hope it's okay. It's Spike/Wordy and Spike/Greg (obviously non-slash) just angsty friendship.

_"Words in italics and double quotes – directly from the eppy."_

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><p><em>"I have...Parkinson's. Now that that's out of the way..."<em>

_"Whoa."_

That was all he could say. He was in shock…they all were. He was losing a friend, another one, without much warning. This wasn't how it was supposed to be. Not again.

Earlier he and Wordy had engaged in a few minutes of friendly banter, mostly to cut the tension and sooth his eager conscious about the growing tension between his team member and their team lead. Wordy and Ed had been best friends for over 20 years, it wasn't a secret; had each other's back through thick and thin and it was something he had more than admired, almost envied since Lew was killed in the line of duty. But what he didn't realize was his friend was hiding a secret that was going to change all their lives and team dynamic, possibly forever.

_"It's nothing…" _Wordy had told him at the time and he didn't press, reading his tone and went on to tell him about Sam's sister sending him a cute message and wondering if he should tell Sam about wanting to possibly date his sister.

But as he stands before his friend, the rest of the team silent or muttering a few words of shock and dismay, he can't respond fast enough or have his brain give his lips something intelligible to say; he was in shock and one word was all he could muster. Kevin Wordsworth was one of the toughest and bravest men he had ever met and now to lose him was going to leave a hole inside that he wasn't sure anyone else could fill.

"Spike," Wordy mentions to him in a quiet tone just as the team starts to disperse, Ed telling his best friend of twenty years he'd drop by to see him later.

"Yeah…hey," Spike turns to him with a small frown.

"You were kinda quiet back there. You know…Spike you know you can ask anything right?" Wordy tells him with a small frown of his own. "The others have and I'll tell you what I can...what I know."

"I know…I know but…well I'm not even sure…"

"Hey slow down," Wordy smiles at his younger friend. "You…got a sec?"

"You sure?"

"Yeah. Hey I've kept Ed waiting before," he smirks. "Some things, even health problems can't change."

"Right…sure," Spike replies with an uneasy smile of his own as he follows after his friend into a quieter area of the locker room. Both of them slowly sit down on the bench, eyes forward, hearts racing. "When you um…first heard…I mean when did you first hear…" Spike shakes his head and looks away.

"Was I scared when I first heard?" Wordy asks softly, prompting Spike to turn back to him with a frown and nod slowly. "Scared as…" he stops and utters a nervous chuckle before he curses. "Really scared. I um…well I didn't tell Shelly at first, how could I right? I mean I was always the one in control, head of my family…protector."

"Well you still are," Spike tries to encourage his friend; although having no personal frame of reference on what to say or do.

"How do you tell your kids that…" Wordy pauses as a small sniffle escapes his lips and he quickly swallows it back.

"Do they know?" Spike inquires.

"Not yet," Wordy answers in truth. "Still workin' on that part. You know facing a drug lord with only a knife would be easier right now," Wordy lightly jokes and Spike's body tries to mirror his friends. But he was unable. He couldn't make light of it, he was scared for his friend and didn't want to lose another male stronghold in his life. He didn't have that; his father wasn't any comfort and certainly not a rock to lean on when the job got tough. Wordy had always been there for him. Since day one.

"Spike?"

Spike looks at his friend and then looks away. He had always admired Wordy's strength for his team, dedication to the job and love for his family; a role model that he told himself he wanted to be like hopefully some day. He couldn't be sick…he just couldn't.

"Spike…"

"I always wanted to be you," he stops and then tries to stand up.

"What?" Wordy asks, his hand gently pulling his friend back down. "Spike what is it? Come on talk to me."

"I um…I can't…you know I gotta go. I know your family is waiting and…"

"Seriously, don't make me cuff you to the bench or sit on you to make you talk," Wordy retorts and Spike's lips offer a small nervous chuckle of their own. "What do you want to ask? If it's medical stuff then…"

"No…nothing like that," Spike's lips curl into a small nervous smirk once more. "I guess I'm just in shock and don't know what to say."

"Okay," Wordy sits back a little and looks at Spike with a suspicious glance. "Usually you have a million things to say."

"Just took me by surprise is all. I know...silly but it's true," Spike huffs. "And it um...won't be the same...without you here."

"I'll still be here...well around," Wordy assures him. "You know that right? I'm not gone for good."

"Yeah...I know that," Spike gives him a small tight lipped smile.

"'sides who else is gonna give you dating advice right? Ed's a new father, trust me he's got his hands full worrying about his own dating advice," Wordy jokes and Spike just nods as he smiles. "I gotta run but um...if you ever wanna talk or ask...well anything I'm just a text away."

"Okay thanks," Spike replies with a nod, his anxiety starting to subside to a small degree.

"Alright well…I'll be in tomorrow."

"Right, okay yeah see you tomorrow."

Spike watches him leave, captured in place for what seems like a small eternity before his world starts to turn again and he's allowed to stand up and move from his place. He slowly heads for his locker, quickly swallowing back any oncoming emotion and telling himself that he has to make sure that he takes nothing home, or suffer another bout of his mother telling him to find a job less taxing on his emotional wellbeing. Today, of all days, he didn't want to go home to that. How could he tell his family that a close friend's life was now going to be cut short from what it could be? They would just get into another heated debate about him taking something less stressful, contributing to the already growing uneasiness that his father was creating.

_Parkinson's…_the word danced around in his morose mind, trying to see if he could remember reading anything about his friend's affliction. But he hadn't; he wasn't prepared – none of them were. It's not like he knew nothing about that disease but he didn't know as much as he should. That would have to change.

"Spike?" Greg's voice breaks his thoughts, pulling his warm brown gaze in his boss's direction.

"Hey…hey boss," Spike quickly inserts a fake smile as his leader approaches.

"You were quiet back there…anything you wanna talk about?" Greg asks. But when he gets an instant laugh, he's quick to inquire. "What?"

"No nothing…just that well um…well Wordy asked the same thing but um…I'm fine. Really."

"You sure?"

"Yeah…yeah I'm good."

"Well you don't look good and going home to mamma Scarlatti in this frame of mind you know is asking for trouble. I know we are all in shock but…come here sit down Spike," Greg entreats, directing Spike to a similar bench but this time in front of his own locker. "Quite the shock right?"

"How long um…you know does he have?"

"No one knows Spike. He's on treatment and everyone reacts differently to that. I wish I knew…Wordy wishes he knew but he doesn't."

"Wasn't supposed to be Wordy," Spike looks down at his folded hands as they start to fidget.

"What do you mean?" Greg wonders.

"Mac…Lew…my dad," Spike repeats his line from earlier. "Wasn't supposed to be another."

"Sure isn't fair is it?"

"No…no it's not. I mean he's got Shelly…the girls…us," Spike sniffles and then looks away, not really wanting to show too much emotion at the moment. "Just wasn't supposed to be Wordy. Not him."

Greg lets out a heavy sigh before his hand rests on Spike's back. "I know it's a lot to deal with but you…you have to remember that he's got things under control."

"And I should focus on my dad because his days are numbered right?" Spike retorts in slight sarcasm and then backs down. "Boss I'm sorry."

"Spike I can't tell you where to direct your feelings, time or attention. Only you can make that call because you still have to live with your thoughts at the end of the day."

"You know when Mac was um…was killed I thought…yeah it has to happen to all of us at least once right?"

"And then Lew..then your dad. But Wordy is still with us."

"I know but…"

"And trust me just because he's not going to be physically on this team on a daily basis, doesn't me he's no longer a part of this team. I think we all know he'll always be a part of this team no matter what kind of job he takes. But the last thing he'd want is us moping around, feeling sorry for him and making excuses while we walk on eggshells around him."

"Kinda hard to just push aside…"

"Nor does he expect us to be ignorant around him either or pretend like there is nothing wrong and walk around with rose colored glasses," Greg ends with a small smirk.

"He's always been there…you know if I have a dating question or…a…just life in general…whatever."

"And he still is," Greg tries to assure him.

"When it was too much at home, I could call him…I mean no matter what time and…boss and he'd be there. Always."

"Spike, he still is," Greg gives him a firm smile. "He's still here for you as he always was. Granted it will be tough to come in here each day and not see him, but you know…the one great thing about modern technology is he's only a phone call or in your case a text away. This job…this job teaches us how fragile life really is and not to take anything we love or anyone we are close to for granted."

"So you're saying…"

"Spike, what I'm saying is…let's make every second count."

Greg's hand gives Spike's knee a small pat, prompting Spike's warm brown eyes to look up and reward his small pep talk with a half smile. "And speaking of texting…" Greg starts as he slowly stands up. "You do have other numbers in that little gadget of yours. I'm always open."

"Thanks boss," Spike smiles.

"See you tomorrow."

He watches him go and then hangs his head forward in his hands and closes his eyes for a few seconds, letting his body exhale heavily. The boss was right, Wordy wasn't gone, he was still going to be a part of them always and his friend for as long as possible. It would be a challenge for sure and he knows that on top of all his own personal family angst, he'd have to deal with his friends ultimate debilitating illness. But he had to make every second count because once those seconds were gone, that was it – you never got them back. Things would be different from this moment on.

"Time to go," Spike whispers to himself as he pushes himself upright and starts to undress from his SRU uniform and into his regular clothing to go home. He slides his leather jacket onto his arms and then turns to look at Wordy's locker; another small lump of emotion starting to form, his eyes wanting to water. Just before he takes another step, he gets a text and quickly fumbles with his phone, pulling it from his jacket and greedily reading the text.

_'Spike. Beer is on me tomorrow after our shift. No is not an option. Wordy'_

Tonight belonged to Ed, he and Wordy had been friends for over twenty years and he had too much respect to argue the semantics of friendship; tomorrow it would be. With his mind a bit more settled, he heads for the exit door and into the cool night air. The tough part of the day was over, the anxiety part of the day was just starting. As he nears home, he braces himself for another tension filled night, entering the back door and smiling at his mother standing by the stove, cooking something that immediately made him hungry as soon as he walked toward her.

"Hey ma. Sorry I'm late."

"Michael," she greets him with a warm smile and kiss on the cheek.

"How's dad?"

"Watching the Godfather," his mother, Michelina Scarlatti answers with a shake of her head. "Want to interrupt that? Go ahead. Supper will be ready soon."

"Right," Spike gives his mother a small smile, wanting to hide away the tension from work, knowing that he had others he could talk to about that; his father was dying and despite the fact that he didn't see eye to eye with him on work, when he was gone that was it.

_'Spike…let's make every second count.'_

Spike slowly enters the living room where his father Dominic Scarlatti was relaxing on an easy chair in front of the TV. He looks up and gives his son a small nod before looking back to the TV. Trying not to let the tension get to him, Spike slips onto the edge of the couch and looks at his father with a small frown, praying for a way to break the tension but to also keep the peace.

Then the opportunity presented itself. A line from the movie came up and both father and son repeated it at the same time before looking at each other and exchanging small smiles.

"The second wasn't as good as the first," Dominic mentions before looking back to the TV.

"What about the third?" Spike asks with a small scoff as his mother looks on from the kitchen, leaning against the doorway and offering a small prayer of thanks followed by a brief request that maybe, just for tonight, peace between father and son would prevail.

Spike leans back on the couch and looks at his father. It wasn't much but at least the conversation wasn't strained or heated. It was calm, normal, the way a father and son would talk about things in general. And for a few seconds there was peace, and for Spike, those seconds were all that mattered.

**THE END!**

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><p><strong>AN:** okay so hope it wasn't too somber but it was an angsty topic and eppy and I hope it didn't depress anyone. I'd love to know your thoughts on this so please review before you go, it'll encourage me to keep writing more. I thank you for our feedback in advance!


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